


Escalation

by ameonna (zetsubonna), melospiza (orphan_account)



Series: Throw Down the Gauntlet [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Asthma, Best Friends, Diabetes, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Old Friends, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pushy Bucky, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 19:30:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1755259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubonna/pseuds/ameonna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/melospiza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Steve have been best friends since second grade. They share everything.</p><p>Bucky takes this to the logical extreme. Steve is more cooperative than he expected.</p><p>(Original female characters are mentioned, but not explored in any depth. They are a means to an end.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escalation

It wasn't that Steve didn't believe Bucky when he said he'd gotten his hands up Laurie Winters's sweater when he was sixteen. Steve tended to believe almost everything Bucky ever told him, because Bucky was Steve's best friend and had very little, if any, reason to lie. He also completely believed him when he told Steve about six months later that Milly Thompson had whimpered like she was dying when he felt her up under her skirt in the back of an empty movie theater. From his first kiss (Margie Roberts) to the first girl who let him slip her some (Carrie Yeltz), Steve was given a pretty consistent set of updates on Bucky Barnes's conquest of every dame he could ever talk into being alone with him, and Bucky never told anybody but Steve, so Steve guessed that sort of counted as discreet. He used rubbers when he went all the way, nobody turned up pregnant, he never got the clap, and the girls never got mad at him, so Steve figured he was handling things all right. So it wasn't that Steve didn't believe Bucky, he just wasn't sure why Bucky was so eager to share.

In the beginning, Steve was a virgin, not because he wanted to be but because girls just didn't go for him, but he never complained about it, and he seemed happy enough for Bucky, so it never occurred to Bucky not to tell Steve literally everything, play-by-play, in occasionally excruciating detail, while Steve drank Coke (Bucky always saved the last bit of change from a successful date to buy Steve a Coke) and occasionally raised his eyebrow when Bucky got too crass.

Then Bucky got it into his head that they should go on double dates. They were just regular, boring, unsuccessful for Steve dates where nothing really happened and even Bucky struck out, because he was too busy being annoyed on Steve's behalf and letting it show for anything to happen. After about half a dozen, though, the mood shifted, and finally there was a night Steve felt like he had been given a ticket to what could have been a very awkward show.

Debbie Caplan, one of Bucky's rare steady gals, had a big chest. Steve suspected, though, that the real reason Bucky kept her around was because she could drive, and her brother would lend her his car for dates. The car was really nice, it even had a backseat and a radio. In the name of chaperoning, her cousin came with her on car dates, so, ostensibly, it was the perfect situation for a double. Steve assumed dinner and dancing, but after dinner, Debbie took the car farther out of the city than Steve had been since he was ten, and her cousin started to look annoyed. She left the car on when they stopped, so they could hear the radio, persuaded her cousin and Steve to switch to the front seat- the cousin required far more persuasion than Steve, even though they both saw where this was going- slid into the back with Bucky, and then the kissing ensued. Steve started to flush when Bucky started hissing her name and she started whining, and the cousin looked like she wanted to die when Debbie squealed Bucky's name a little louder than she probably meant to, and then the car was rocking just a bit and the cousin fumbled her way out and fled. Debbie and Bucky didn't notice.

Steve considered going after the girl to make sure she was safe and not crying, but ultimately didn't because she stayed within sight of the car, and she'd kind of been unpleasant to him- not because she wouldn't fool around with him, he wasn't insane, she'd just been flat rude- and Steve was a lot of things, but he wasn't a saint. He glanced in the rear view, but all he could see was petticoats, so he looked back and forth between that and the windshield and never made a sound. On the drive home, Bucky sat behind Debbie, snickered and kissed her neck while she drove and giggled. Steve sat next to him and thought really hard about punching Bucky in the shoulder. The cousin was deep red and dead silent, pointedly staring out the window. Steve forgot her name as soon as the girls drove off and mostly forgot she had ever existed.

Bucky had looked at him, after they went up to his room and he was smoking, with an amused mix of affection, respect and evaluation, and Steve just shrugged and settled back into the couch cushions on the floor. So he'd been within two feet of Bucky screwing a girl. He wasn't traumatized. As upstanding a young man as he was, Steve had been Bucky's best pal too long to ever be a prude. He even let himself smile a little bit, the kind of smile Bucky's 'so-me-and-this-dame' stories always got: indulgent, long-suffering, affable and mildly intrigued. Bucky snorted and looked back out the window with his cigarette, and Steve watched him until he fell asleep. He never expected it to happen again.

Annie Sanders was leggy, also came with a runaway cousin, and Bucky's ma was at her sister's. Unsure how he'd even gotten there, Steve sat in the living room and listened to the mattress squeaking over the sound of the radio. Bucky's bedroom voice was low and hungry, and Steve muffled a fit of laughter when Bucky came back from walking Annie home and handed him a Coke. Bucky grinned.

Sophie Jemson had bright green eyes, a sister who was nice enough to Steve but had a steady and went home early, and Sophie was Steve's first screamer. Every time Steve cut his eyes and raised his eyebrow at Bucky for a week, Bucky would bust a gut and giggle until he cried. Their mothers and Bucky's sister and brothers were mystified.

They weren't double dates, but Francie Harper was curvy everywhere, and Josie Mason was slender and graceful, like a ballerina. It was a month after they'd moved in together, and he'd come home both times to Bucky's tie on the doorknob and a Coke tucked into the corner. He sat on the floor with his back against the wall and listened, wondering if he and Bucky were ever going to actually talk about this- whatever it was. It wasn't every time Bucky had sex, not by any means, Steve still got regular reports, but it was a thing they were doing, apparently: Bucky screwing girls with Steve in the next room, quietly narrating as he went, mumbling, 'come on, baby,' 'oh, sweetheart,' 'fuck, that's so nice,' and a million other dirty things when the walls were paper thin and eventually one of the girls was going to complain, it was inevitable, except somehow they never did. Steve wasn't sure if it was because Bucky was just that ace at screwing, the girls literally ignored Steve so hard they forgot he existed, they felt sorry for Steve and wanted him to at least have a chance to jerk off, or they were actually going along with Bucky and putting on a private blue show. He preferred options one and four. He never jerked off to Bucky screwing girls. It did get him hard, he wasn't dead, he was just never even tempted to. Jerking off was private and separate. Steve only listened.

Lettie Wallace was a natural redhead, and Bucky made sure, when he got back from walking her home at four o'clock in the afternoon, to tell Steve exactly how he knew. Steve closed his eyes, smiling fondly, lifted his Coke in a toast to Bucky's success, and earned himself a ruffled head of hair and a promise that they'd find him a dame one day, even if it was just for a tumble.

Steve had tastefully neglected to mention he hadn't been a virgin for a year. His number was a lot smaller, of course, Bucky had recently hit double digits and Steve was only at two. He was still figuring out what he liked. He could tell he was more interested in using his mouth and hands than his dick. He considered it successful, since he'd gotten them bothered enough with the former to have them ask for the latter, and been complimented both times on knowing what he was doing when he actually didn't. He could never talk, but he liked it when they made noise, even soft, breathy noises he could barely hear. His girls weren't bombshells like Bucky's. He thought they were pretty, though, and best of all they were petite things; Janine was Steve's height, Mary a little shorter, both brunettes from art class with big, sad brown eyes and boyfriends in the Navy- and the boyfriends were why he kept it to himself. Not because Bucky would ever tell, but because Bucky's opinion of Steve was very high, and Steve felt guilty about screwing another guy's doll, even just the once, even though it was their idea, especially since the guys were in the service. Kinda guilty, but not guilty enough to stop him doing it either time, just guilty enough not to tell Bucky.

One warm spring night, when Steve could breathe just fine, Bucky took Evie Taylor, who, in the right light, looked like Hedy Lamarr and was easily the prettiest girl Steve had ever seen up close (he'd continue to think so until he met Peggy Carter) out to a concert at a jazz hall. Steve got tired waiting up for Bucky, changed into his pajama pants and an undershirt, and laid down on the tiny twin bed on his side of the apartment, curling up like he always did, on his side, facing Bucky's bed and the window. In ten minutes, he was out like a light. In an hour, he woke to the sound of Bucky's key in the lock and Evie's breathy, sweet giggle in the hall.

Steve's heart sped up a little. Bucky had to know he was home, it was the middle of the night. He had to know Steve was awake, Steve had always been as light a sleeper as a Brooklyn boy could be. What the hell was Bucky even thinking? He heard the front door click open, the jangle of keys as they missed the table beside it and fell to the floor, a warm murmur from Bucky, more breathy giggles from Evie. There were more bumps, shuffling, the distinct sound of loud, wet kisses, and then they were maneuvering their way into the bedroom, still tangled in each other, one of Bucky's hands untucking his shirt, the other slipped up the back of Evie's skirt to palm her ample ass.

Steve quietly and quickly pulled the covers up over his shoulder, nearly to his ear, and curled up even tighter, blushing, though it was faint enough the light through the window wouldn't give him away. He'd been fine in the car, why was he flustered?

"Ooh," Evie cooed, then dropped her voice to a stage whisper. "You've got all those muscles, Buck, I bet you could- Mmph!"

Steve absently wondered what she'd been going to say before Bucky's mouth had cut her off. The noise of their kissing seemed loud in the small room, the slick slide of tongue and lips, the wet smack when their mouths parted, the throaty little moans when they met again. Hands whispered over clothes, underneath, and the second time Bucky reached beneath her skirt Steve caught a glimpse of her panties.

"You'll find out what I can do in a minute," Bucky mumbled, and it was one thing hearing him through the wall and another hearing him in person, watching his hands roam as he nudged Evie toward the bed, popping one of the buttons of her blouse in his eagerness to get her out of it.

"Whoops," he chuckled.

"I'll just bet I will," Evie purred, arms around his waist, fingers skimming over the small of his back, lightly scratching with perfectly manicured nails Steve could only imagine were painted red, or at least a very dark coral pink. "I wanna see everything you can do to a gal, Bucky Barnes. Nevermind the buttons, just don't tear my nylons, I-"

Steve was very, very still. His eyes looked shut.

"You didn't tell me your roomie was home," Evie hissed, swatting Bucky's shoulder even as she pressed her breasts against his chest. "Ain't he gonna wake up?"

Bucky glanced over his shoulder, then shrugged, turning back to her.

"Nah. Sleeps like a log, poor sap. Could probably drive a train through here and he wouldn't notice."

He smiled his most endearing smile, then tipped his head to kiss her shoulder, the side of her neck, the soft skin beneath her jaw.

"If you want to be quiet... if you can be quiet," he mumbled, light fingertips stroking up and down her back, along her shoulderblades, nudging one of her bra straps gently off her smooth shoulder.

"My feelings aren't gonna be hurt if you want to leave," he mumbled, lips brushing along the side of her neck, palms squeezing her ass, pressing her hips into his as he added, "A real shame, though, letting this go to waste..."

Evie dug her nails lightly into Bucky's ribs, cutting off a moan mid-gasp by biting her lips together.

"Oh, gee, wouldn't it just be, though?" she sighed, pressing back against him. "I'll stay, if you're sure. Mm, you've got rubbers, right? Other stuff we can do if you don't, but mm-"

She dragged the inside of her thigh against the outside of Bucky's and tipped her head back so he could keep kissing her neck. "Ooh, gee, Buck, tell me you do, I ain't usually a good time gal, but with you, I wanna."

"Of course I do, baby," Bucky purred, deft fingers flicking at the clasp of her bra. "I'm a regular Boy Scout; always prepared."

He crouched slightly as he tugged off her bra, exhaling an admiring sigh as it tumbled down her slim arms and revealed pert little breasts, smooth and milky in the nightglow of the city that filtered through their thin, shabby curtains. He kissed her lips, massaging her breasts with his warm hands, and then he dipped his head to trace the tip of his tongue around her nipple before sucking it eagerly into his mouth.

Evie crooned, another breathy noise, arching her back to press into his mouth and moving her hands up to cup against his jaw, burying her nose in his hair. "Ooh, Bucky! How's it possible for a fella to smell so good? Gosh, that's nice. Put one of your hands back on my bottom, I liked that."

Steve bit the inside of his lip. He was pretty sure he'd be tasting blood by the time this was over. That was fine. As long as he didn't have a damn asthma attack.

When there was a wall between them, or even a seat, it was easier to pretend away certain things. Bucky screwing girls got Steve hot. He wouldn't jerk off to it, that wasn't part of the deal, but he would get hot and hard and, when Bucky wasn't looking or listening, he could breathe heavier, maybe squirm a little. Lick his teeth. Bite his lips. Pick out the little pieces that really made him burn up, focus on them without being at all aware of himself.

Not like this, he couldn't. He had to be intensely self aware, because he had to keep stock-still. He could blink, he could widen or narrow his eyes, but he couldn't sigh or rub his fingers over his open mouth or shift his hips. He could watch, and he could think, and he was chewing the hell out of his tongue, but the only better Bucky could have tied him down would be to have gotten rope.

When Bucky came back from walking Evie back to her place, it was nearly three in the morning and Steve had taken off his shirt, kicked the covers down and was laying out with one arm across his forehead. Bucky pressed the cold bottle of Coke into his ribcage.

"I oughtta kill you," Steve told him, snatching the bottle away.

"For a front row seat and free show?" Bucky asked, grinning when Steve sat up and the bottle hissed open. "Please. Evie's the best I've ever done, I had to share with somebody."

Steve swished the Coke around his teeth. He was pretty sure he'd bitten a hole in his cheek when Bucky was talking Evie through her fifth orgasm, which had set off his second and rounded out the night. "You're a little too proud of being the reason half the girls in the parish end up in Confession every month."

"I'm plenty modest," Bucky demurred, stripping down to his skivvies and falling on his bed on his stomach. He breathed in his sheets and laughed. They had to smell like sex. The whole room did, and Steve had even tried turning on the fan and opening the window as wide as it would go. "And it ain't every month. I can't save up date money that quick. Besides, if it weren't me, it'd be- well. I don't know anybody as good lookin', but it'd be somebody. Don't drink the whole thing. It's late, you'll wreck your sugar."

"Kiss my ass."

"Not tonight, Missus," Bucky purred. "You saw me. M'fresh outta kisses. Run on the bank."

Steve hit him with a pillow.

***

After Evie Taylor, it was only a matter of time. Steve was late coming home from art class and Bucky was home early from work, puzzled because Steve nearly always got home first and was cooking supper by the time he got in.

When Steve did open the door, he blinked at Bucky in surprise and his face quickly went very pink.

"Give me thirty minutes," he promised, dropping his satchel behind the door and unknotting his tie.

The blushing was odd, and Bucky was intrigued enough to come closer. Steve didn't notice, not until Bucky, lips curled in an astonished grin, tugged on his shirt.

"What?" Steve asked, flicking a glance at him and pausing the knife he was using to chop an onion.

"You've been holding out on me," Bucky murmured. "You tomcat. What's her name?"

Steve's hand trembled a little as the flush deepened. "What?"

"Steve," Bucky said, somewhere between patience and incredulity. "The dame who left that lipstick on your collar."

Steve scrunched his shoulders up to his ears, grinning and embarrassed. "Rachel. She ain't my girl," he added hastily.

"Why was she kissing on your neck if she ain't your girl?" Bucky prodded, ruffling Steve's neatly combed hair.

"Her fella shipped out two months ago," Steve mumbled, shrugging. "Navy. Guess she got cold."

"Mother of God," Bucky swore, punching him lightly in the shoulder, just rough enough that he rocked on his feet and shoved back at him. "You sneaky little fox. How far did you get?"

"A little more than petting," he confessed, still avoiding eye contact. "I, um. I'm good at stuff. With my mouth."

Bucky was scandalized, but he couldn't stop smiling. "What's she look like?"

"Little," Steve said vaguely. "Brown hair, big blue eyes. Petite, you know, willowy. Pale, pretty mouth. Real soft voice. Good at watercolors."

"I'm so proud of you," Bucky rumbled, low in his throat, squeezing his shoulders. He paused, leaning his head against Steve's, arm still around him. "Stevie," he murmured, looking at his face from the corner of his eye, "are you a virgin?"

Steve giggled nervously. "Not actually, no."

Bucky swatted his chest this time, arm still around his shoulders. "You ain't supposed to keep shit like this from me, you punk. How many dames have you felt up?"

"Just three," Steve confessed, quiet and shy. "And um, I only went all the way with the second one. I mostly- you know. My hands. And my mouth."

Bucky rubbed his cheek against Steve's hair. "Your mouth, huh?"

Steve nodded, tilting his head to glance at Bucky's expression, their faces barely inches apart. Bucky's lips twitched, and it was all the warning Steve got before Bucky kissed him. Steve dropped the knife with a clatter and grabbed Bucky's shirt with both hands, never minding the onion or anything else, busy pushing himself up on his toes to flow against Bucky's taller, broader, harder body like a cat, opening his mouth, which tasted, Bucky noted with delight as his hands splayed across the small of Steve's back, a hint more like pussy than chocolate.

"The Hell are we doing?" Steve muttered after Bucky moved his tongue back into his own mouth.

"I didn't wanna be your first," Bucky explained against his lips. "Didn't want you to think you couldn't get anybody else."

"Didn't know it was an option," Steve growled, grinding his stomach into Bucky's hips. "The Hell were you going to tell me?"

"When I got around to it. Ain't hungry. Not for food. Wanna see what else you can do with your mouth?"

"Christ. _Yes_."

Bucky knew Steve too well to think he was bragging. He wasn't strong, but he was quick, he could sew, knit, crochet, paint, untangle strings and pinch out the perfect amount of spices. His fingers were deft, and he'd always been the sort of person to do more than one thing at a time, so being petted by him, Bucky noted right from the start, was like having your nerves taken apart, piece by piece. He wasn't as good at kissing, which struck Bucky as lonely, so he poured himself into teaching him without a word, how to hold his head and what amount of suction was right, when to flick his tongue and how to let his jaw go slack so Bucky's could explore the rest of his mouth.

Steve started with his hands on Bucky's jaw, stroking the balls of his thumbs from behind his ears to the hollow of his throat. Bucky nipped and sucked at Steve's lower lip while Steve caressed his neck and kneaded his way into Bucky's shoulders, dissolving days of ache Bucky hadn't even realized were still there. It couldn't be comfortable for Steve, Bucky reasoned, leaning up on his knees and hanging his weight from his arms while he hovered over Bucky, so he moved to haul him into his lap.

"What are you-" Steve hissed.

"Shh," Bucky soothed. "C'mere."

"I'm already- don't _pick me up_ , Christ, I ain't-" Steve started to struggle backward.

Bucky sighed internally. He really should have predicted this. "I know, but you're too far away, so c'mere."

Steve settled himself in Bucky's lap, his narrow backside perched on Bucky's thigh, and glowered at him. It was too dark to see, but Bucky could feel the way his face was radiating heat from a blush that likely went down into his collar, and he wished they had left the light on, because that would be pretty.

"Relax," Bucky admonished, pressing his hand to the small of Steve's back and kissing his jaw.

"Don't pull me around," Steve warned, his head tipping away to let Bucky's mouth into the side of his neck. "I ain't a dame."

"That's obvious," Bucky assured him. "I'm putting you where I want you, that's all."

"You could tell me what to do," Steve grumbled, sliding Bucky's buttons loose to his collarbone and then leaning back to haul his shirt off. Even some of Bucky's most forward girls weren't as aggressive, and he had to hide a grin in Steve's shoulder, lest he get caught out. "I can move myself."

"Less yapping," Bucky huffed, yanking Steve's shirt out of his pants and sliding his hand up the middle of his back again, remembering how Steve's spine felt under his palm when they were on the beach in the summer, every bump of his spine through smooth, soft skin, cooler now that it wasn't pink and burnt. "More petting. You can talk to me when your mouth ain't got a previous obligation with my tongue."

Steve snorted, but making him laugh defused his temper, and Steve was a genius at moving. His chest wasn't bare enough- Bucky wanted him naked and was damn sure working on it- but he was pressed up against him, flat, breathing deep, slow and steady to keep himself from getting too excited, just the right amount of sandpaper to his dry, cool hands as they moved over every muscle and plane of Bucky's chest and back, over the curves of his arms, tangled in his hair and mussed the pomade right out. His fingers curled when Bucky growled into his mouth, his chest would hitch and his ass would go tight and hard on Bucky's lap and Bucky wanted to pin him to the floor, but he didn't think that would go over well, not when Steve was clearly mostly present in his own head.

"Move," he ordered, low and firm, and Steve leaned back obediently. He tugged Steve's buttons loose so roughly he got his hand swatted, but he ignored it and soon enough he was peeling Steve out of his shirt and undershirt at the same time, and then he could get his hands back on him, and Steve felt like he had always felt, soft and smooth but live and uneven, like pressing firm on a flower petal writ large, but Bucky wouldn't say so if he had hot pokers jabbed into him, because telling Steve he had better skin than most dames would be a ticket to sleeping in the hallway and alone.

"See?" Steve whispered.

"Shut up," Bucky said, rolling his eyes and pulling him back in for another bout of kissing.

They felt good together. There wasn't a whole lot of give either way, but they knew each other well enough that they could read and telegraph what they were doing without a whole lot of talking. Steve grinned when pinching Bucky's nipple made him hiss, and Bucky retaliated by palming Steve's ass and giving it a squeeze, and a few minutes of this escalation had them both panting and Steve's thighs around Bucky's waist. Bucky worried for a moment after he did it that grinding against Steve's ass would get him in trouble, but Steve just responded by rocking his hips into Bucky's stomach, so that was apparently fine, and they were both squeezing each other at intervals.

Steve liked Bucky's neck and his ribs. Bucky's liked Steve's waist and his shoulders. Blunt nails found places along spines and nipples pressed into flat chests and they only laughed once, when they both tried to surge into kissing each other from different angles and Steve bit Bucky's chin and his nose nearly ended up in Bucky's mouth.

"Let me drive, you little shit," Bucky demanded, swatting Steve's thigh.

"Screw you," Steve replied, his hips swiveling so his ass ground into Bucky's dick and Bucky went cross-eyed. "Jerk."

"That's a pretty big check, Rogers," Bucky breathed, his eyes slipping closed, fingers curling over Steve's hips. "You plan on cashing it?"

Steve went completely still, then relented, burying his face in the side of Bucky's neck, his voice going soft and shy. "Not tonight."

"Okay then," Bucky conceded, light but smug, kissing Steve's temple. "Don't be a tease."

He was afraid, when Steve didn't immediately respond, that he'd gone too far, but then Steve's shaking lips brushed the hollow of his throat and he tangled his hand in the back of Steve's soft blond hair.

"Lean back," Steve murmured, pushing, and Bucky did, though he kept his hand in Steve's hair so his mouth couldn't leave Bucky's throat.

"What you got in mind?" Bucky asked when Steve's mouth started winding down his chest.

"You know," Steve said gruffly as his lips brushed over Bucky's heart. "Shut up."

So Bucky shut up, and let go of Steve's hair, and moved his hands instead to Steve's shoulders and his back, stroking and petting him, watching him in the low light that filtered in the window from the street. _Pretty_ , Bucky thought, his thumb grazing Steve's jaw, his hand on his shoulder. _You're just so fuckin' pretty. Beautiful._

He was on one elbow when Steve's mouth hit his diaphragm and was about to start on his stomach, and Bucky's breath caught, because he needed to see this, but it was going to be uncomfortable at this angle, and-

"Gimme a minute," he muttered, and Steve glared up at him, which Bucky immediately knew was because Steve was blushing himself dizzy and didn't want to think too hard about what he was doing or he'd get nervous. "Less than a minute, I swear."

He squirmed back until he could rest his shoulders against the narrow strip of wall at the foot of his bed, where the light from the window would make everything Steve did as well lit as could be, and then beckoned Steve closer. Steve was clearly mystified by the change in location, and that was good. Bucky wasn't going to say a word, not yet.

"What are you doing?"

"Just trust me. Don't stop."

"Okay," Steve said skeptically, and his mouth made it down to Bucky's abs before he started tugging at Bucky's fly, and Bucky clenched his teeth so hard he could have sworn he tasted blood.

"You all right?" Steve asked, not looking up, his expression so serious it would have made Bucky laugh any other time.

"Fine," Bucky assured him. He pushed his own hair back, because he felt sweaty and it was hot, and then he tangled his fingers gently in Steve's. "I'm great. Steve-"

"Hrm?" Steve's tongue dipped into Bucky's navel and Bucky's vision swam for a second before he managed to catch his breath.

"You-"

"Shut up," Steve advised.

"You know I can't," Bucky grumbled, flustered. "I talk when I fuck. You know I do."

He could have sworn Steve smirked, but the only sound that came out of him was noncommittal and oddly confident.

"Have you even-"

Steve flicked his eyes up at Bucky's face and his brow went up. "Does it matter?"

Bucky closed his eyes, considering, and Steve's hands were pulling down his trousers and his shorts and he could feel air on his dick and Steve's breath and it was hot and damp and every hair on Bucky's body stood on end.

"No."

"Then quit asking." His long, slender fingers curled around Bucky's cock and his head rotated on the end of his neck. His brows were furrowed, his lips pursed, eyes half-lidded but it was too dark to see what emotion, precisely, lingered under lashes so thick and long that Bucky could almost see them. "We doing this?"

Bucky laughed, breathless, disbelieving. "I ain't the objective party here." 

Steve glanced up at him, and Bucky's mouth gaped open. Steve smirked, squeezing gently, and Bucky's eyes rolled back. "Jesus _fuck_ -"

"Language," Steve murmured, pulsing his grip again, and Bucky whined, hands curling into fists against the floor.

"Fuck you."

"Should I stop?"

"I'm going to throttle you, you punk, don't-"

Steve laughed again, low and rumbling, a sound that resonated in Bucky's spine even before his tongue slid across the head of Bucky's cock. It was wet and warm and a lot less timid than he'd expected from the nervous look on Steve's face.

"Christ, _Steve_."

He closed his big, pretty blue eyes and sucked the head into his mouth and watching had been both the worst and the best idea Bucky'd ever had, because those full, pouty lips wrapping around his dick wasn't a sight he could have been prepared for. Steve didn't have the suction for kissing perfect, but whether it was talent or practice, the way he pulsed the pressure of his mouth and the slow rolling of his tongue around the head of Bucky's cock, the way the tip wriggled and worked up and down the slit, the way his gaunt cheeks hollowed out completely, the steady friction of his palm and fingers against the rest of Bucky's shaft- it was all flawless.

"Damn. Damn, damn, _damn_. Damn, baby-"

Was he smiling? Was the little shit _smiling_? Bucky couldn't think.

Steve was on his stomach on the floor, the bare part of the floor where their cheap rug wasn't there to block off the smooth wood. His weight was resting on the arm tucked under his chest while the other hand worked Bucky's dick deeper into his mouth. He wasn't in any hurry, he licked and sucked a little bit at a time until he had more than half of Bucky's cock in his mouth, and then he bobbed his head slowly up and down, timing it so he inhaled as he was going down and exhaled as he was coming up.

Bucky's trembling fingers brushed Steve's hair back from his sweaty forehead, and that earned him the most delicious little hum, so he moved his fingers into Steve's hair, and when Steve pulled back again he nuzzled at Bucky's hand before sinking down over him again. Bucky had no sense of time. He didn't know how long Steve had been sucking him, he just knew it was good, it was so good, he was leaking pre-come all over Steve's tongue and Steve wasn't even pausing, except to stroke across the head of Bucky's cock with the flat of it and then his whole mouth would ripple as he swallowed, which was happening a lot because sucking Bucky off was making Steve's mouth water. The result was a only little loud, only a little sloppy, only completely perfect because what Steve wasn't swallowing was working out of his lips and down between his fingers, letting his hand massage it along his shaft.

When Steve's hand dropped to Bucky's balls and Steve's lips managed to get all the way down to the soft curls at the base of Bucky's cock, Bucky lost control of his mouth entirely.

"Baby. Oh, God, baby. Steve. Baby- Fuck, goddamn it, baby, that's good. You're so good, baby, keep going. Keep- uhn, Steve, baby- _Stevie_ -"

Steve growled, and Bucky's eyes fluttered open long enough to see Steve's hips grind into the floor. The growl felt amazing, and Bucky squeezed Steve's shoulder with one hand and the one in his hair got tighter.

"Baby," Bucky whined when Steve growled, his hips tensing upward, and Steve paused for a second, then made another sound. It was a low sound, and Steve wasn't looking up at him, not at all, as though he was embarrassed, but he wanted something.

"Baby?" Bucky whispered. Steve tugged at Bucky's hips. It was minute, it was barely a motion, but he got it. He pushed upward again, pulling gently down at Steve's hair, and Steve didn't gag, he took it. Bucky fell still, astonished. Steve growled again after a few seconds, smacking Bucky's thigh, so Bucky did it again, and as he slowly began to work up a rhythm, Steve's low, infrequent growl turned into a steady, hungry sound that Bucky gradually realized was a moan. There were a few false starts, when Bucky's hips mistimed and Steve's breath caught, but it felt so good that Bucky kept going and Steve squeezed his thigh and ground into the floor.

When Bucky was about to come, he didn't stop moving his hips, but he let go of Steve's hair so he could pull back if he wanted to, and Steve pushed his tongue firmly against the underside of Bucky's dick and sucked as hard as he could and Bucky's vision blacked out when he came, trembling and shaking so much he almost entirely missed the way Steve's throat bobbed when he swallowed it.

"Fucking Hell," Bucky moaned softly as his cock quietly slipped from Steve's mouth and came to rest against his own stomach. "God damn, Stevie. C'mere."

Steve sat up, dragging the back of his hand across his swollen lips, his eyes half-closed and hot. "Howzzat?" he managed hoarsely, crawling up the length of Bucky's body and crashing his head on Bucky's shoulder.

"You're the best," Bucky mumbled, kissing his temple, then the center of his forehead, then, cautiously, shyly, his lips, where his whole mouth tasted like Bucky's come. "You're the best, baby." Bucky's arms snaked around Steve's waist and he buried his face in his hair. "S'fuckin' good t'me, Stevie."

"Ain't been Stevie since third grade," Steve reminded him, snuggling against his side. "What the Hell, Bucky?"

"Shut up," Bucky growled, squeezing him close, nuzzling into his hair. "Such a good guy." He tugged at Steve's pants, eliciting a whine when it jostled Steve's dick. "M'gonna get you off, okay, baby?"

"Okay," Steve breathed, burying his face in Bucky's chest. "Okay, sure. Yeah, sounds- sounds good. Just- ungh- just-"

"Breathe with me, baby," Bucky advised him, confident. "In and out when I do. You focus on that, I'll take care of this."

"O-kay," Steve managed as Bucky's hot, rough fingers made it into his pants and grazed along his cock. "O-kay, o-kay- oh-God, Bu-Bucky-"

"Shh, shh, baby," Bucky kissed the back of his neck. "Just breathe, Stevie. In and out, atta boy. Need some spit on it, or-?"

"No," Steve clung to him, tighter, starting to jerk his hips. "No, just- nngh. S'okay, m'close, just- just don't-"

"Just don't _stop_. I gotcha, baby. Ain't stopping. Let's get you there."

Steve buried his face in Bucky's neck, trying to keep his breathing in sync with Bucky's as Bucky's hand worked steadily up and down his cock, mimicking with his thumb all the tricks Steve had managed with his tongue.

"Almost there, huh, baby?" Bucky murmured. "You were so goddamn good to me. You're fucking sweet like sugar, baby doll. Come on, sweetheart, that's nice, right? You like that, baby?"

Steve moaned, loud and flat, right into Bucky's shoulder, and Bucky kissed his hair and squeezed a little tighter, pumping at him earnestly, watching the way his body jerked and listening to make sure his breath didn't start to rattle.

"Bucky," Steve whispered. "Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, Bucky-"

"I've got you," Bucky promised. "M'right here, baby. Let go when you can, it's okay. I've got you."

"Bucky, _Bucky_ , Bucky, Bucky, _Bucky_ -"

"Right here, sweetheart. C'mon, lemme see- mm, you gonna come? Lemme see your face, baby, look at me. Damn, that's so pretty. You're pretty, baby. Come for me, Stevie. Let go."

Steve's come splashed against Bucky's hip and over his fingers, and Steve trembled against him like a leaf, burying his face in Bucky's skin. Bucky kept his hand moving until Steve pushed it off, then sought out his lips and kissed him, soft and gentle, right on his mouth.

"Ain't pretty," Steve complained, husky, sounding almost drunk.

"Shut up," Bucky countered, nipping at his mouth. "Sleep with me."

Steve was still for a moment, then laughed softly, nuzzling Bucky's jaw. "Fine. But only 'cause I don't think I can move. Carry me."

"I thought you didn't like bein' picked up?"

"Special occasion. Put me to bed."

"Whatever you want."

Steve let Bucky pick him up and haul him into Bucky's bed by the window, only grumbling a little bit when Bucky peeled him out of his trousers and left him in his underwear. Bucky stripped down to his own shorts and rolled over Steve to take the side of the bed by the wall, which made Steve laugh and elbow him in the ribs, and then Bucky hauled Steve close again and buried his face in Steve's neck, arms around his waist.

"The Hell are you doin', Barnes?"

"Shut up," Bucky growled, staving off a laugh by biting Steve's shoulders. "Cuddling."

"What." Steve squirmed uncooperatively until his hip was pinched, and then fell still. "Since when do you cuddle?"

"Since you ain't got a curfew," Bucky stated simply. "I cuddle just fine, but none of my girls can stay."

"Ain't a girl," Steve reminded him, glaring suspiciously.

"Ain't going anywhere, either," Bucky pointed out. "So shut the Hell up and deal."

Steve huffed and squirmed, but he seemed to relent after a few minutes and Bucky loosened his grip. Bucky waited until his breathing was slow, deep and even and his slim frame lacked all tension before he murmured, "Did you mean it?"

"What?" Steve asked drowsily.

"Not tonight," Bucky reminded him, trying to sound nonchalant. "I figured you meant 'maybe some other night,' so I'm askin'."

Steve was quiet again, but he didn't tense up. After such a long pause that Bucky thought maybe he'd fallen asleep, Steve murmured, "Yeah, maybe." He shifted himself again, running his fingers through Bucky's hair. "You wanna, huh?"

"Never did it before," Bucky confessed. "Couldn't ask a dame without sounding like a heel."

"None of the fairies, either?"

"You kiddin' me?" Bucky yawned and nuzzled Steve's jaw. "I mean, they offer, but I don't pay 'em any mind."

"'Cause you're neck deep in tail," Steve murmured, sounding amused.

"Usually," Bucky agreed, kissing his throat. " _You_ , though."

"Me, huh?" Steve tilted his head back. "Bruise you with my skinny ass, you crazy jerk."

"Might be worth it," Bucky mused, trying not to let his smirk into his voice. "Ain't that skinny. Has a little bit of curve to it. Muscle, I think."

Steve snarled indignantly and punched him in the ribs, and Bucky laughed, squeezing him.

"Come on, you were grinding on me, I can't help I noticed."

"I was _moving_ ," Steve insisted. Bucky could see the blush working down his chest, and it was amazing. "You were grinding, I was just- moving."

"It felt good," Bucky purred, letting one hand slide down from Steve's waist and palming his ass again. "Real good."

"Not tonight," Steve grumbled, shoving at his hand. "Don't do that. Quit it."

"Just touching," Bucky promised, kissing his shoulder. "Not stickin' my hand down your shorts. Calm down." He leaned back and brushed his mouth over Steve's, soft and reassuring. "Quit wiggling so much, you're gonna get me hard again. Relax. Go to sleep."

"You try going to sleep with a big, hot hand on your ass," Steve groused, swatting him and squirming until he was laying on his back, which made Bucky scowl and push his shoulder until he could curl around Steve's body from behind and rest his hands on Steve's stomach, nosing back into his neck. "The Hell, Bucky?"

"Shut up," Bucky replied, yawning and kissing his neck again. "I like it here. Right here. This is how we're sleepin'. Goodnight, Stevie."

Steve was still and quiet until Bucky's breathing evened out and he seemed to be asleep, and then Steve relaxed into his chest, stroking down Bucky's arms slowly and folding his own over them on his waist, cautiously working his ass a little tighter against Bucky's hips.

"Night, Bucky," he mumbled, closing his eyes.

Bucky smirked.


End file.
